


Special Delivery for His Holiness

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blasphemous Sex Toys, Blasphemy, D/s elements, Divine Interventions, Dom!Michael, Inappropriate Uses for Rosaries, Incest, Lucifer's a little shit, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Pope!Michael, Priest!Lucifer, Rosaries, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest, face fucking, sub!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 19:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Pope Michael I has been getting some rather unusual packages.





	Special Delivery for His Holiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhisperingMagpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperingMagpie/gifts).



> This is for the wonderful @samslashdeantogether who bought me a wonderful toy from Divine Interventions (TMI, yes, I know, I don't care) and while I was looking at shipping, found out that they ship to the Vatican. Why WOULDN'T I write this fic?
> 
> You can find all the toys (and others I didn't put in) at divine-interventions.com

Pope Michael, formerly Cardinal Michael Milton, sighed as he looked up at Cardinal Samandriel Aloquinas, his camerlengo.

“A package for you, your Holiness,” Samandriel said respectfully, placing a generic brown box in front of Michael.

“Thank you, Samandriel,” Michael said, smiling at the young cardinal before finding the knife he used to open packages. “How are the finances of the Holy See doing?”

He listened to Cardinal Lafitte rattle of some numbers briefly as he finished cutting open the box. He then opened the box and held up a hand to stop the flow of speech from the cardinal.

“Your Holiness?” Samandriel asked softly. “Is something wrong?”

Michael withdrew the object from the box and held it up for Samandriel’s perusal. “Do you know what this is, Cardinal Lafitte?” he asked softly.

Samandriel blushed to the roots of his hair. “Is that. . . a um. . . ‘personal’ item, your Holiness?”

“It is,” Michael said.

“A. . . personal item in the form of our Lord on the cross?” Samandriel asked, making the sign of the cross on himself as he gazed upon it.

The dildo- Michael knew what it was immediately- was ivory colored and very well made. The ‘base’ was the cross itself, with Christ spread out on it, and the end tapered down to a narrower rounded phallic-shaped edged. It was made out of silicone, and high quality at that.

“Apparently,” Michael said. He pulled out the invoice that came with it and snorted. “It’s called the ‘Jackhammer Jesus’,” he informed the embarrassed cardinal. He slowly slid the cellophane cross-dildo back into the box, along with the invoice. A “First Holy Communion” napkin fell out and on the back, there was a note.

“Oh. Apparently, someone was feeling brave,” Michael said, picking the note up.

“Do. . . do you think this is a prank, your Holiness?” Samandriel asked softly.

“That it could be,” Michael agreed before looking down at the writtennote, from the company but the company- Divine Interventions- wasn’t the person speaking in this note.

_Your Holiness-_

_I thought that this form of our Lord Jesus Christ will help assist you in your prayers. I’d love to observe you conducting Mass with it one day._

_-An Archangel_

“Someone playing with the lines of blasphemy,” Michael murmured. He slid the note back into the box. He looked at Samandriel. “Would you please take this to my safe?” he asked politely. He was going to find out who sent him the toy, somehow.

“Yes, of course, your Holiness,” the camerlengo said, bowing before kissing the Ring of the Fishermen upon Michael’s finger. He took the small brown box and quietly left.

The young Pope sighed and sat down at his desk again. “I was hoping that was the new Bible I ordered,” he murmured.

 

Michael thought that it was a one and done situation, but that wasn’t the case. Four months later, Samandriel came in with another box, like the one before, and set it on his desk.

“I hope this contains that text I ordered for the Archives,” Michael said, carefully opening the box again with his knife. He slipped the box open and sighed, looking at Samandriel. “We have a new. . . companion for the ‘Jackhammer Jesus’,” he said plainly.

Samandriel flushed brilliantly. “A-another one?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Michael said, pulling out another dildo. This one was a light blue- the coloring _was_ beautiful- and had what appeared to be-

“The Virgin?” Samandriel squeaked.

Michael nodded. “The Virgin Mother herself,” he said. He turned her around to show Samandriel the back. “With her own scrotum.”

Samandriel turned a darker shade. “Does she come with a note like the last one?” he asked.

Michael rummaged through the box, finding the invoice- the dildo was simply titled ‘Virgin Mary’ before pulling out another First Holy Communion napkin.

_Your Holiness-_

_I hope that the Jackhammer Jesus has brought you much satisfaction. The nice thing about the Virgin Mary is you can just simply sit it up, making it remarkably good for personal prayers. I also find the texture more appealing, as being able to feel the presence of the Holy Spirit is the most important thing._

_Enjoy your prayers, your Holiness._

_-An Archangel_

Michael set the note aside and slid the dildo and the invoice back into the box before looking at Samandriel. “Would you please accompany the Mother to her Son?” he asked.

“Yes, your Holiness,” Samandriel said, taking the box and picking up Michael’s hand to kiss the Ring of the Fisherman once more, before taking it away.

Michael sighed and tugged his paperwork closer to him, knowing he had to start making plans for the upcoming Easter Mass.

 

It was roughly another four months later that Samandriel found the Pope fighting with the air conditioner in his office. Rome was painfully hot this summer, and the main A/C unit inside the Holy See in the Vatican had broken down two weeks before.

Michael bit back a few expletives and blasphemies before turning to Samandriel. “Can you please inform Captain Gadreel that the air conditioner is broken so he can get someone to fix it?” he asked, gesturing towards the currently useless thing.

“Of course, your Holiness,” Samandriel said, taking out his phone and typing out a message as he handed a plain brown box to Michael.

“I hope that this is the personal fan I ordered,” Michael sighed. “Wearing these vestments in this heat is making me sweat like a sinner in St. Peter’s.”

“We’re all sinners in St. Peter’s, your Holiness,” Samandriel remarked wisely as he watched Michael open another generic brown box.

Michael peered inside the box, sighed, and then looked at Samandriel. “Another one,” he sighed.

“A-another dildo, your Holiness?” Samandriel coughed.

Michael rocked his hand back and forth before reaching in and grabbing, wrapped in plastic, a small pale blue marbled plug with the image of Baby Jesus carved into it.

Samandriel made the sign of the cross once he saw it. “That’s the worst one yet,” he whispered.

“Indeed,” Michael remarked. He found another napkin, which meant another note.

_Your Holiness-_

_I realized that the first two items that I sent you to be used with Mass weren’t the best. Especially the ‘Jackhammer Jesus’. He can only really be used for Easter Mass. However, we all know Christmas Mass is your favorite Mass to conduct, and no good Mass comes without a Nativity scene. And what’s a Nativity scene without Baby Jesus?_

_-An Archangel_

Michael sighed and replaced the simply named ‘Baby Jesus Butt Plug’ back into the box before looking at Samandriel.

“To the safe, your Holiness?” the camerlengo asked.

“Yes, please, Samandriel. And do not forget to talk to Captain Gadreel,” Michael reminded him.

“Of course not, your Holiness,” Samandriel said, leaning to kiss the ring before leaving. His cheeks were flaming red.

Michael sat back down behind his desk and pulled his speech towards him, now having an inkling of an idea of who might’ve sent the toys. Michael had already tried calling Divine Interventions- wonderful people, simply wonderful in all honesty- to talk to them, but because he wasn’t the purchaser, he couldn’t find out. He did, however, know that this was someone close to him.

No one in the Vatican would have guessed that Christmas Mass was his favorite Mass to conduct, even after the four years of being Pope. If you asked any of the cardinals, bishops, priests, or even Swiss Guard, they would all respond that Easter Mass was Michael’s favorite Mass.

Not that Michael didn’t love the ceremonies that accompanied the celebration of the Resurrection. He’s just always felt that during Christmas was when he felt the most ‘reborn’.

And the mention of the Nativity- of course, that was something to be expected when Baby Jesus in the form of an anal plug shows up. But it was the specific _what’s a Nativity without Baby Jesus?_

Michael sighed as he leaned back into his chair. As a child, he had the habit of sneaking the figurine of baby Jesus away from any of the Nativity scenes he could reach and carry Him back to his room. He’d cuddle with him in bed, and his parents found him more than once asleep with the tiny figurine clutched in his fists.

Not many people knew that story, so it’s someone he’s known since childhood.

Not wanting to think on that any longer, Michael pulled his notebook closer and began writing down his sermon for the upcoming Mass.

 

It was a blustery, wintery day in Rome and in the Vatican, and instead of sweltering hot with a defective air conditioner, Michael was grateful for his vestments and the small space heater he kept by his desk. The halls in Vatican City were drafty, and many of the Swiss Guard had taken ill.

Samandriel entered with another generic box and Michael eyed it warily. “Who does it say it comes from?” he asked.

Samandriel checked. “Um, Nigel R from Divine Productions, your Holiness,” he replied before placing it onto his desk.

Michael sighed and withdrew his knife. “We’re going to have quite the collection if this person keeps it up,” he remarked.

Samandriel flushed. “You haven’t used the toys, have you, your Holiness?” he asked softly.

“That’s between me and our Lord, Samandriel,” Michael said firmly. He wasn’t going to admit that he’s used the Jackhammer Jesus, much to his satisfaction. He debated on the Virgin and the plug, but decided that that was too much blasphemy for him.

Samandriel blushed further, picking up the implication. “I suppose they say celibacy, not complete absence from sexual desires,” he murmured.

Michael chuckled softly, looking at Samandriel with a raised brow. His own ears were turning pink. “We both know that popes before me have been far more corrupt and loose with ‘celibacy’ than I,” he said.

“In all honesty, I’ve never understood the celibacy,” Samandriel admitted. “I suppose it makes sense, but. . . isn’t populating His earth and spreading His Word amongst a younger generation just as important as devoting your life to Him and speaking to Him? And isn’t creating that new generation of followers in Christ the greatest gift one could have?”

Michael smiled and looked at Samandriel. “You are wiser than many people would give you, _Monsieur le Camerlengo_ ,” he said, slipping into French.

Samandriel’s ears turned as red as his cheeks and he coughed. “T-thank you, your Holiness,” he murmured.

Michael smiled and returned to the box in front of him, grabbing the next toy that his tormentor had sent him.

It was. . .well, was it a finger or a phallus? Michael couldn’t tell. It was _shaped_ like a finger, but the weird ridges and the bumps that made up the toy made it seem more phallic.

He looked at Samandriel. “Is this. . . a penis or a finger?” he asked curiously.

Samandriel cocked his head to the side. “I’m. . . not sure, your Holiness,” he replied quietly.

Michael nodded, picking up the First Holy Communion napkin with the familiar black writing. “Let’s see what the archangel has to say,” he said.

_Your Holiness-_

_I thought you might like something a little different, and that’s where God’s Immaculate Rod comes into play. I like to imagine that it’s our Father’s finger, much like your favorite fresco in the Sistine Chapel. You know the one I’m referring to. Too bad that Moses’ staff isn’t available. I imagine that that would be quite the boon for you._

_-An Archangel_

“Your. . . favorite fresco, your Holiness?” Samandriel asked hesitantly.

 _“The Creation of Adam,_ ” Michael said quietly. “That’s not a very well known fact here in the Vatican.”

“No, it isn’t,” Samandriel agreed. “Would you like for me to take it to the vault?”

“Yes, please, Samandriel,” Michael said, putting the toy back into the box and handing it over to Samandriel.

Samandriel kissed the Ring of the Fisherman and left, generic box in hand.

Michael sighed and sat down in his seat, rubbing his temples. He didn’t need this four days before Christmas, he had a sermon and a Mass to conduct in four days and his sermon literally had four words written down. He tugged his notebook to him again and began writing.

 

It was just after Easter when the next generic brown box with a label from Divine Productions graced Michael’s office and Samandriel guessed what was inside.

“I hope this one isn’t as blasphemous as that plug,” he murmured, ears turning pink as he set the box down on Michael’s desk in front of the Pope.

Michael nodded in agreement and picked up his knife. “One way to find out,” he said. He slipped the box open and looked down into it, before sighing. “Whatever this one is,” he said, unable to see the face of the thing, “it’s red.”

“Perhaps it’s something meant to resemble the Staff of Moses?” Samandriel suggested, peering into the box alongside Michael. “Or. . . maybe St. Augustus?”

Michael chuckled softly at Samandriel’s suggestions. “You’re hoping for less blasphemy,” he murmured.

Samandriel gave a weak smile. “We can hope, your Holiness,” he said.

Michael reached in and pulled out the dildo, to come face to face with. . . the face of Satan.

Samandriel immediately made the sign of the cross and muttered an act of contrition under his breath.

Michael, however, seemed generally unaffected, and merely stood the impressively made devil down before picking up the note on the napkin.

_Your Holiness-_

_We all need to be reminded that no matter where we go; no matter how many sins we’ve had cleansed by our Lord Jesus Christ; no matter what decisions we make or details we alter in our lives, we will always end up here. Free will is an illusion- you’ve said that yourself, numerous times. The Devil is always lurking, hiding behind false smiles and warm promises that will turn to ash the moment you claim them. And not even the holiest man in all of Christdom cannot not be tempted by the Father of Sin._

_Remember Isaiah 14:12, your Holiness._

_-An Archangel_

Michael pulled his Bible out of his desk and flipped to the quoted scripture.

_How thou art fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!_

Michael closed his Bible with a loud thump before looking at Samandriel. “Prepare the plane,” he said. “Make it ready to take off in two hours.”

“Where are you going, your Holiness?” Samandriel asked.

Michael gave a smile.

“Home. Tell Cardinal Novak to conduct Mass on Sunday.”

“Yes, your Holiness.”

 

Father Lucifer Milton smiled as he surveyed his congregation the third Sunday after Easter while he prepared Communion. He raised the consecrated bread and wine up above the altar.

“Through Christ, and with Christ, and in Christ, all honor and glory are yours, Almighty God and Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, for ever and for ever. Amen,” he intoned, closing his eyes briefly as the congregation chorused “Amen” after him.

The full consecration met, people started lining up at the closed gate to the altar to receive Communion, including a face he hadn’t seen in person quite some time. He couldn’t help when he recognized him but to smirk to himself as he held the wafer to his lips.

“The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven,” he murmured in benediction, before whispering very softly to him, “turn your ring around, you mook.”

The man snorted, but did as he was told, chewing thoughtfully on his wafer as Lucifer went on with his duties.

Communion was done in a short time; Lucifer’s flock wasn’t a very large flock, but it was a devoted one, and it wasn’t long before Lucifer was saying what the recessional was and where it was located.

The familiar face kept his eyes averted as Lucifer swept down the aisles of the sanctuary after the cross, side by side with his deacon, reaching the back of the church before turning around as the organ played the final note.

“Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord!” Lucifer proclaimed proudly, feeling his entire body relax. He loved being a priest, he did, but April always made the sanctuary hot as hell.

He shook hands and talked with parishioners as they filed out, complimenting him on his sermon. The familiar figure hung back until the only two in the sanctuary were him and Lucifer. Only then, did he raise his face.

“Your Holiness,” Lucifer said, inclining his head. “It would’ve been wonderful if I knew you were coming, I would’ve allowed you to conduct Mass.”

Michael smirked. “How’d you recognize me, anyways?” he asked.

“You’re my brother, Michael,” Lucifer laughed softly. “Even if you’re the high and mighty authority of the Catholic Church, I still recognize you. And even if I didn’t recognize you, the Ring of the Fisherman is very hard to miss.”

“You have one,” Michael pointed out.

“But it’s obviously a fake,” Lucifer reminded him. “Yours, however, is the true Ring of the Fisherman.”

Michael smirked. “The congregation’s grown since I was last year,” he remarked.

“It’s amazing what ten years away will do,” Lucifer said.

“Goodness, has it been that long?” Michael asked.

“Ten years ago you were elected to the College of the Cardinals,” Lucifer reminded him. “And four years since you were elected Pope- it’s almost been five years.”

“Five years this June,” Michael agreed.

“I take it this is a social call and that your faithful Swiss Guard and camerlengo aren’t here?” Lucifer asked with a smirk. “Who’s conducting Mass in Rome?”

“I left the duty to Cardinal Novak,” Michael said.

“Castiel Novak?” Lucifer asked. At Michael’s confirming nod, Lucifer grinned. “Good little cousin.”

“How’s our brother?” Michael asked.

“Gabriel?” Lucifer snorted. “More of a heathen than our parents ever thought he’d be. Gabriel’s made himself a name in the erotic film industry.”

Michael raised a brow. “Our baby brother is a porn star?” he asked.

“If you’d check your email more often than once a year and actually read it,” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “you would’ve known this.”

Michael sighed. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Lucifer sighed. “So. Social call.”

“And to deliver a lesson unto you,” Michael smiled.

“Lesson? What lesson?” Lucifer laughed.

“I know you’ve been sending me blasphemous adult toys, Lucifer,” Michael chided.

Lucifer laughed happily. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually,” he teased. “That last one gave it away, didn’t it?”

Michael nodded.

“I thought you would’ve guessed after the Baby Jesus butt plug,” Lucifer smiled, walking over to his brother. In the privacy of the church, he pressed himself close to his brother. “You know that no one else knows you used to sleep with baby Jesus from the Nativity at night. Only Mom, Dad, and myself. Gabriel never witnessed it, because it was after he was born that I bought you that Nativity set for your room.”

Michael smiled, looking down at his younger brother. “You’re right, I should’ve realized,” he admitted. “But really, Lucifer? Quoting Isaiah 14:12?”

Lucifer smirked. “I’ve been waiting, I got impatient.” he shrugged. “You haven’t called or written much beyond a generic ‘Merry Christmas’ once a year since you left for the Vatican.”

Michael sighed, wrapping his arms around his brother. Lucifer was right. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“You better be,” Lucifer mumbled, hugging his brother tight. “It’s pained me to only hear your voice on TV and reading what your teachings are in the paper. Only seeing your face in pixels and not in real life.” He looked up at Michael. “You’ve aged.”

“You haven’t,” Michael murmured. Lucifer looked almost as youthful as he always had.

“The grey at your temples suits you,” Lucifer murmured shyly. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“I’ve been staying at a hotel close by,” Michael murmured. “False name. Meet me at the Marriott. Room 682. Ask for Dean Winchester.”

Lucifer scrunched his face up in revulsion. “You’re using your ex boyfriend’s name?” he asked. “And 682. . . Mikey, that’s not a corner room, is it?”

Michael nodded in answer to both questions.

“You’re an idiot,” Lucifer grumbled. “Change rooms. The room I usually book is Room 666. It’s not a corner room. I’ve told you this a hundred times, _never_ book a corner room. It’s known as the murder room for a reason. And it’s by some fucking stairs, isn’t it?”

Michael grimaced. “I haven’t stayed at many hotels lately, Luci, I’m sorry I forgot.”

“Tell them you’re checking out of Room 682 and you want to be moved to Luke Alighieri’s room,” Lucifer instructed. “I’ll be there in two hours.”

Michael nodded and kissed Lucifer’s cheek chastely. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he warned before he left.

Lucifer smirked.

 

Lucifer slid the keycard into the door and entered Room 666, seeing Michael stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed. “When did you touch down, anyways?” he asked.

“Thursday,” Michael said without opening his eyes. “Took Thursday and Friday to sleep, and Saturday I went sight seeing.”

“Without guards or bullet proof cars or anything that would keep you safe if you were on an ‘official’ visit,” Lucifer frowned. “What’s the official excuse for why you’re not in Rome?”

“I believe Cardinal Aloquinas said that I was down with the flu,” Michael shrugged. “Unofficially, I’m visiting family.”

Lucifer smirked as Michael opened his eyes. Lucifer was wearing his priest attire of black slacks, black button down, and the white Roman collar around his neck. A thick, black wooden rosary hung from his belt loop. Michael, for his part, was dressed similarly, except his shirt was a crisp white and he wore a dark green tie.

“It’s weird not seeing you in vestments,” Lucifer admitted.

“And it’s weird seeing you take the collar so seriously,” Michael added. “You fucked around during seminary.”

“Michael!” Lucifer gasped, placing his hand over his heart. “How _dare_ the Pope use such language.”

Michael smirked at his brother being over dramatic. “Oh come now, you whore,” he said, watching Lucifer turn pink. “You know more about what I do and don’t do”

Lucifer crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, straddling Michael’s hips. “Not since the night before you left,” he murmured. “You didn’t even write to me congratulating my graduation from seminary.”

Michael cupped Lucifer’s cheek. “I’ll check my email more often,” he promised. “For right now, I want to focus on teaching you what happens when naughty little brothers send their older brothers blasphemous sex toys.”

Lucifer laughed, rolling his hips into Michael’s. Clothed lengths brushed against each other and they groaned in unison. “You think I don’t know what they feel like, Michael?” he murmured. “I tested each and every one of those out before I ordered yours. Thoroughly.”

Michael chuckled, resting his hands on Lucifer’s waist. “Is that why there was a waiting period?” he teased.

“Mhm,” Lucifer hummed softly, still rolling his hips languidly. “I wasn’t going to send my big brother subpar toys.”

Michael laughed lowly, squeezing Lucifer’s hips and feeling the bone underneath. “Well, I appreciate that. Now, there’s a lesson to be learned here.”

“Is there?” Lucifer smirked. “Are you trying to make me confess, your Holiness?”

Michael bit his lip. He was really hoping Lucifer wouldn’t turn their faith into a sexual thing, but there were hardly any boundaries for his brother. “Maybe,” he hummed.

“Well,” Lucifer smirked, rolling his hips more firmly. “Bless me, Father, for I’m about to sin.”

“Oh?” Michael asked.

“And I know, deep down,” Lucifer continued, leaning in to whisper into Michael’s ear, “I’ll sin again.”

Michael reached up to knot his fingers in Lucifer’s short blond hair as he kissed his brother deeply, tasting Communion wine and coffee and the mint Lucifer must’ve been sucking on before he arrived. Lucifer clung to his arms and allowed Michael to manhandle him to the bed, kissing back desperately.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” Michael whispered. “My tempter.”

“Micha,” Lucifer moaned softly against Michael’s lips. “My Micha.”

They kissed again, sloppy and without technique, but neither Pope nor priest cared- they were back to being Michael and Lucifer, the gay incestuous brothers who found their calling in the Church, albeit for different reasons. They fell into a tangle of limbs, older brother on top of younger, still kissing, reuniting.

Ten years had been too long, far too long.

Michael undid the rosary from Lucifer’s belt and set it aside as Lucifer pawed at Michael’s own belt, whimpering.

“Who have you slept with since I left?” Michael asked, possessiveness surging forth. “And don’t lie to me, little brother.”

Lucifer bit his lip. “Um. . .” he whispered quietly. “Dean.”

“You slept with _my_ ex boyfriend?” Michael growled as he pulled Lucifer’s belt off and flung it to the ground.

“It was a one night stand at a wedding eight years ago,” Lucifer remarked, “and we were both drunk.”

Michael smirked. “Of course. Who else?”

“Sam, Dean’s younger brother,” Lucifer replied.

“Did you just bang every apple hanging from the Winchester tree?” Michael growled.

“I didn’t fuck Adam, if that’s what you’re implying,” Lucifer assured Michael.

Michael narrowed his eyes. “You slept with John.”

Lucifer gave a one shouldered shrug. “Glory hole situation?” he asked with a smile.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Go on.”

“Gadreel, before he also left for Rome,” Lucifer continued. “Cain, a few times. Balthazar numerous times. Fergus Crowley.”

“What did you do, set up a corner for Sunday after Mass?” Michael asked harshly, shoving Lucifer’s pants and boxers down to his ankles.

Lucifer lowered his eyes from Michael’s intent gaze. “You were gone,” he said softly, sounding younger. “I never gave myself the chance to date, not like you did. There was you, then suddenly, there wasn’t you and I was already in seminary. I was just lonely, and didn’t know how to deal with it. I was trying. . . trying to find something that’d tide me over until this moment but. . . nothing. No one compared to you.”

Michael’s gaze turned tender, and he brought his hand up to tilt Lucifer’s face back up. “ _Mea culpa,_ little brother,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He kissed Lucifer tenderly. “But that doesn’t let you off the hook for the sex toys.”

Lucifer smiled against Michael’s lips. “What are you going to do to me, big brother?” he whispered softly, kissing Michael again.

Michael ran a finger up the curve of Lucifer’s free, hard cock, watching his younger brother shudder from the light touch. “I’m going to make you scream,” he promised. He grabbed the rosary from where he had set it down in his eagerness to take Lucifer’s clothes off.

Lucifer’s eyes widened as Michael began looping the solid wooden beads around his cock and balls, making a make shift cock ring and he whimpered as the cool crucifix rested against the seam of his balls. “Micha?” he whispered.

“Do you trust me, little lark?” Michael asked, slipping into his special nickname for Lucifer.

Lucifer nodded. “Always, Micha,” he whispered.

“Then roll over, hands behind your back,” Michael said. “Now.”

Lucifer did as he was told as Michael moved from the bed. He crossed over to his suitcase, withdrawing a bottle of lube and the Devil Dildo that Lucifer had gifted him, still in the plastic. He removed the plastic and walked back over, setting the Devil down upright on the nightstand before nestling himself behind his brother.

Lucifer whined as he heard the bottle open and Michael poured lube out, coating his fingers in the viscous clear fluid. He watched his brother breathe in and out slowly, obviously relaxing. He still knew every curve and jut of Lucifer’s body, even though it was thinner than what he had remembered. His cock hung low, kissing the bed, and Michael leaned in to kiss the small of Lucifer’s back before pressing two fingers in.

Lucifer moaned, rocking his hips back onto Michael’s fingers eagerly.

“Always were a greedy little thing,” Michael chuckled softly. Lucifer’s hole was tight, tighter than he ever remembered it, except for the night he took Lucifer’s virginity when his younger brother turned sixteen. “When was the last time you got fucked?”

Lucifer flushed. “Two or three years ago,” he admitted. “I’ve used toys since, but. . .” he shrugged.

“I know, little lark,” Michael soothed, kissing the pert globe of Lucifer’s ass. “I know. I won’t leave you like that again.”

“Promise?” Lucifer asked softly.

“I promise,” Michael whispered. “We’ll work something out, Luci.”

Lucifer whined as the pads of Michael’s fingers lightly brushed against his prostate. Smirking, Michael slowly added a third finger, stretching his younger brother wide.

“I’ve missed this,” he admitted softly, watching Lucifer’s hips rock backwards, keeping his arms crossed obediently behind his back. “Missed watching you fall apart like this. Missed feeling your tight little hole clench me hard, as if trying to suck me in.”

Lucifer whined louder, his hips rocking back even more. “Micha,” he whimpered.

“I know. No one can fuck you like big brother, can they?” Michael purred. “No one knows how to fuck you the way I do.”

Lucifer rapidly nodded his head, keening as Michael crooked his fingers and began massaging Lucifer’s prostate gently.

“You’re such a needy little slut,” Michael smirked, “such a slut for my cock.” He leaned over, keeping his fingers inside Lucifer as he molded himself to Lucifer’s back. “But you’re not getting my cock in your tight little hole. Not yet. You’ve got to earn your way back onto my cock.”

“Micha, please,” Lucifer gasped, moaning as Michael nipped the lobe of his ear.

“This is what you’re going to do,” Michael whispered softly. “You’re going to have that rosary act as your cock ring. You’re not allowed to cum until I say. I brought the Devil with me, and you’re going to ride it. You’re going to ride it like it’s my cock bringing you the salvation you need. And I’m going to face fuck you while you do so.”

“Oh God, yes,” Lucifer blasphemed. “Micha, please.”

“Such a good little lark for me,” Michael purred. He withdrew himself from Lucifer entirely, fingers included. He admired the way Lucifer’s hole clenched around nothing, puffy and slightly wet from lube. He grabbed the Devil Dildo off the nightstand and lubed it up, making sure it was dripping in lube before he pressed the head at Lucifer’s hole. “Ready?”

Lucifer nodded. “Yes,” he whispered.

Michael didn’t take his time. He shoved half off the dildo straight into Lucifer, smirking to himself as his younger brother cried out in pleasure and slight pain.

“Micha,” Lucifer whimpered.

“Want the rest of it?” Michael whispered.

“Please,” Lucifer begged. His cock leaked and the precum fell to the bedspread below.

“Dirty little wet slut,” Michael cooed. He kept the dildo in halfway and slapped Lucifer’s ass hard, the crack echoing in the small room. “On the floor, legs spread. You want the rest of it, you get it in.”

Lucifer scrambled to do what he was told, getting down on the floor and situating the dildo upright so he could slide down it. He gripped the base and spread his legs. His cock rubbed against his stomach, smearing it with precum as the black rosary stood out in contrast to the pale skin beneath. The silver cross rested on Lucifer’s balls, a reminder of what they were as much as the black shirt and white Roman collar Lucifer still wore.

He slid down the rest of the dildo slowly, whimpering and moaning. His head was thrown back as Michael watched darkly.

“Take off your shirt,” the older commanded. “You’re not allowed to be clothed.”

Lucifer waited until he was firmly seated on the dildo before he fumbled with his shirt, unbuttoning it and sliding it off of his shoulders. The only tattoo Lucifer’s ever had came into view, the Bible verse that Lucifer had always quoted coming into view under his right collarbone.

“Good,” Michael praised. He undid his belt and slid it off, letting it fall to the floor as Lucifer bounced on the dildo, gasping. The texture of the Devil was one of the reasons he had sent it to Michael. It was one of the most textured ones on the website, and right now, the folds of the Devil’s cape was rubbing right up and against his prostate. His cock dripped, and he knew by the end of the night, his rosary would be covered in semen.

Michael finished undoing his slacks and pulled out his cock, stroking it as he watched Lucifer bounce. “Fuck, you look so good like this, baby,” he murmured lovingly. “Right where you belong.”

Lucifer whimpered, still bouncing. “Micha, Micha please,” he whined. He needed his brother.

Michael stood up and walked to where his little brother was and guided his cock into Lucifer’s warm mouth, sighing as lips wrapped around his length. “I’m going to face fuck you,” he murmured, taking a handful of Lucifer’s blond hair.

Lucifer simply batted his lashes and moaned. He gave a firm suck of Michael’s cock, hot and heavy and familiar on his tongue.

“Good boy,” Michael praised before he began to face fuck him.

Both brothers knew that Michael wasn’t going to last. It had been too long and Lucifer sucked as he was face fucked. Tears sprang to his eyes from the prickling pain of Michael tugging on his hair but everything felt good, from the dildo in his ass to the rosary hanging around his cock and balls to Michael’s cock in his mouth, driving into him and making him gag.

“Lost your gag reflex, tsk tsk,” Michael panted. “We’ll have to work on that.”

Lucifer felt his eyes roll to the back of his head as he coughed and choked on Michael’s cock, allowing his brother to use him.

Michael came without warning, flooding Lucifer’s mouth with his release. Lucifer tried to drink it down without spilling, but it came too fast and he felt some dribble out of the corners of his mouth and down his chin, joining hte mess of tears on his face.

Michael withdrew and observed his brother. Lucifer was the definition of looking wrecked. His face was red, tears and cum messing up his face. The redness of crying made the ice blue eyes pop; his lips were pink and swollen and stained with cum. His cock was tinged reddish-purple from lack of release and precum smeared the head and the black beads binding dick and balls. He was still rocking up and down on the Devil Dildo, and he whimpered and whined and mewled, close to begging.

“Stop,” Michael said gently, running now gentle fingers through Lucifer’s hair. His brother did so, leaning into Michael’s touch. “You can get off of the dildo; let’s go cuddle on the bed for a bit.”

Lucifer nodded, sliding off of the dildo slowly with Michael’s help, gasping as he felt himself finally be free.

“How are you?” Michael asked, carefully bringing Lucifer to standing.

“Woozy, needy,” Lucifer admitted, clinging to Michael for support.

Michael led Lucifer to the bed, running a soothing hand up and down his back. “Get under the covers,” he whispered. “I’ll be there in a moment.” He waited until Lucifer had done as he was told before he went into the bathroom and got a glass of water for Lucifer and shoved off his clothes before returning, fully nude.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as Michael crawled into bed beside Lucifer and held the glass of water to his brother’s lips. Lucifer drank greedily, draining the glass quickly before snuggling into Michael.

They laid there for a while, cuddling, enjoying their nude bodies pressed up against each other for the first time in almost eleven years, Michael’s arms wrapped around Lucifer and holding him tightly.

“I needed this,” Lucifer whispered. “Thank you.”

Michael smiled and kissed the top of Lucifer’s head. “Of course, anything for you,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, Luci. I should check my email more often.”

Lucifer nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, you should,” he murmured. He turned his head into Michael’s neck and kissed it softly. “I don’t want this to end,” he whispered.

“I know,” Michael murmured.

“When are you due back in Rome?” Lucifer asked softly.

“I fly back Wednesday,” Michael murmured. “I have a mass baptism to do on Friday.”

Lucifer groaned and snuggled into Michael. “So we’ve got today, Monday, and Tuesday,” he said.

“That’s right,” Michael murmured, kissing the top of Lucifer’s head. “We’ll make the most of it. I promise.”

Lucifer nodded and sighed, nuzzling more into Michael. “Can we do this more often?” he asked softly. “I’m sure there’s a way I can manage to get to Rome once a year.”

Michael smiled and kissed Lucifer’s forehead. “Around Easter?” he asked softly.

Lucifer nodded. “I’d love to be present for Palm Sunday,” he whispered.

Michael smiled a little bigger. “I’d like that. You were always good with Easter Masses.”

Lucifer smiled and reached up to kiss Michael chastely. “Just let’s not wait another ten years for this.”

“Agreed,” Michael replied, kissing Lucifer back. “I wasn’t too harsh on you, was I?”

“No, Micha,” Lucifer laughed warmly, looking at his dark haired brother adoringly. “Besides, now I can say I got face fucked by the Pope.”

Michael laughed and kissed Lucifer deeper. “You’re in love with the Pope, you dork.”

Lucifer smiled as Michael kissed him back.

 

“Your Holiness?”

Michael looked up at his camerlengo, a year after the whirlwind events that lead him back to Lucifer. “Yes, Samandriel?”

“Father Milton is here,” Samandriel said softly with a smile.

“Let him in,” Michael smiled back. “And then. . . why don’t you take Commander Lafitte for a stroll in the gardens?”

Samandriel blushed and nodded. “Of course, your Holiness.” He turned and let Lucifer into his office.

“Father Milton,” Michael said, standing up and crossing over to his younger brother.

“Your Holiness,” Lucifer replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He kissed the Ring of the Fishermen. “I’m honored that you asked me to be by your side for the Easter festivities.”

Samandriel took his leave and left.

“Your camerlengo is adorable,” Lucifer grinned with a twinkle in his eye once they were alone. “Can I corrupt him?”

“No, Lucifer,” Michael laughed, cupping his brother’s face in his hands and kissing him sweetly. “That’s why I sent him to have a stroll in the gardens.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck.

“You mess up my robes, and we’re going to have a long talk,” Michael warned lovingly.

Lucifer’s only response was to kiss him softly before whispering quietly, “I’ve got a little Jesus in me.”

“It’s a twenty hour plane ride from La Guardia to Rome,” Michael chastised.

“But I want your Holiness to be able to take care of me properly,” Lucifer winked.

Michael rolled his eyes and kissed his brother again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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